


pick up your guns and tell your sons (tonight we break this cage)

by stardustgirl



Series: Feelstember 2020 [14]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Angst, Awkwardness, Background Alrich Wren/Ursa Wren, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Watch (Star Wars), Dubious Morality, Ezra Bridger Gets a Hug, F/M, Feelstember, Feelstember 2020, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Human Disaster Ezra Bridger, Jedi Temple, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Moral Ambiguity, On the Run, Order 66 doesn’t happen, Parental Kanan Jarrus, Politics, Prompt Fill, Sighted Kanan Jarrus, Teenage Ezra Bridger, Terrorists, no order 66, please help Ezra he’s babey and desperately needs it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustgirl/pseuds/stardustgirl
Summary: After the heirs of several Mandalorian clans are assassinated and the suspected next target requests aid from the Republic, Jedi Caleb and his Padawan Ezra are assigned to escort their children to sanctuary.  However, in the process, they manage to uncover a conspiracy that threatens to upend life as they know it.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Ezra Bridger & Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger & Tristan Wren, Sabine Wren & Tristan Wren
Series: Feelstember 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905316
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25
Collections: Feelstember 2020





	pick up your guns and tell your sons (tonight we break this cage)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xenon912](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenon912/gifts).



> Okay SO some general things about this AU:  
> \- No Order 66 (it won’t be happening during this fic either; Palps just. somehow got stopped. ANYWAY ,,,)  
> \- Ezra and Caleb are Jedi in the Very Much Not Dead Jedi Order  
> \- uhhhhh theres probably some stuff I’m forgetting so uh yeah y’all will see lol
> 
> TW: Referenced Child Murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for “Hugging” for Feelstember.

“Can you explain why a bunch of Mandalorians need _us_ to protect them?”

“I told you, kiddo, it’s politics.” Ezra continues to pace, however, and Caleb spares a moment to hope he won’t wear a hole through the floor.

“But they’re _Mandos!_ I thought they _hated_ Jedi!”

“Oh, we do.”

Ezra jumps, spinning to see a group of Mandalorians entering the hangar. Caleb only nods, uncrossing his arms. The woman in front is the Countess, if he had to guess, and her husband is easy enough to pick out as well. Two teenagers are behind them, and the rest of the group remains helmeted as the Countess stops a few feet from Caleb.

“But we are wise enough to recognize when we need to prioritize the protection of our own over our pride.” She gestures, and the teens behind her approach, accompanied by her husband. “So, Master Jedi, I assume you are here because your council believes you capable of protecting my children from the growing number of assassins?”

“Yes. They briefed me, but said more details would be given once I actually got here, so if you wouldn't mind elaborating...?”

The Countess nods. “Of course. This way.” She gestures, and he follows her out. Ezra moves as if to follow them, but she stops and turns abruptly. “ _Just_ you, Master Jedi. Your Padawan can wait out here.”

“Wait, I can’t come?!”

Caleb turns, too, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Not this time, kid. I’ll be back soon, okay?” He leans in close enough that the others can’t hear. “Why don’t you get to know our wards? Get a sense of what this assignment will encompass from their end of things while I get their mom’s side.”

Ezra nods eagerly at the thought of having an important role. “Sure, of course, Master Dume!” Caleb smiles one last time before finally following the Countess out of the hangar.

She stops at a door several meters down the corridor and types in a keycode before entering, and upon his arrival he sees what seems to be a conference room of sorts. The Countess stops at the far end of a round table and types something in, pulling up several files on a holoprojector built into the table. So, not a conference room, then. More like a strategizing one.

“Forgive me, I believe we did not exchange pleasantries beforehand. I thought it best to get on with the matter so my children will be safe sooner rather than later.” Still, the Countess extends a hand across the table. “Ursa Wren.”

“Caleb Dume,” he says, taking her hand and offering a firm shake.

“Well, Master Dume, here is what we are dealing with.” She taps something else on the holotable, her gaze falling from him to the controls until another image appears. Caleb stiffens, recognizing the sigil all too well. “You know them, I take it?”

“Yeah. That’s– that’s Death Watch, right?”

“Yes. Or, rather, a part of it.” Ursa taps something else and the image shifts to the left, a nearly identical sigil appearing beside it. There’s a difference, but he can’t figure out what, exactly, that difference _is._

“This is the signet of Death Watch, and this is the signet of a recently-arisen splinter faction, one whose sole purpose, it seems, is to cause chaos amidst all of Mandalore with no overarching goal. They have no name as of right now, and only mark their work with this symbol, which is currently our only way of identifying them and their work. And _your_ job, Master Dume, is to keep them from killing my children.”

Caleb has to think for a long, hard moment about how to phrase this so he won’t offend her. “Wait, so...you’re saying you want us to help protect you from...from a splinter group of your own terrorists? That’s...forgive me, Countess, but that just seems kind of counterproductive.”

“And _this,_ Master Jedi, is _exactly_ why we didn’t call for the Republic's aid before now,” she says, voice like a knife edged with ice. “We didn’t call for them when the first child died, and we didn’t call for them when the second one did as well. Like I said before, Dume: we are up against a wall here.” Her gaze grows hard. “And I will do _anything_ to ensure that my family makes it out of this alive.”

He doesn’t hesitate to reply with, “And my padawan and I will do the same, Countess.”

Ursa smiles, but it’s cold and calculated. “Good. And now, Master Dume, onto the logistics….”

* * *

By the time Caleb and Ursa finish, he’s expecting Ezra to practically be best friends with the Wren kids.

Unfortunately, that is not the case.

The Wren siblings are standing in front of his Padawan, both their arms folded, and Caleb notices with surprise that both have their helmets back on. Meanwhile, Ezra’s apparently oblivious as he continues to ramble.

“— _didn’t_ mention you, or– or your family, it’s just that...well….They didn’t? I’m not really sure _why_ they didn’t, because I mean you’re pretty cool—no, I mean, I mean _both_ of you are pretty cool, and your family and your house—wait your family is your clan, right? That’s the word you guys use, right? I’m sorry, I’m still not great at this whole diplomatic thing—“

“Ezra!” Caleb calls. The kid turns so fast he’s surprised his head doesn’t come off.

“Yeah?”

“Less is more,” he stage whispers, and the younger of the Wrens shifts his weight, as if trying to suppress a laugh.

“ _Ade._ ”

Both teens turn, removing their helmets as they approach.

“ _Ibice Jetii_ Caleb Dume _bal_ _kih’jetii_ Ezra Bridger. _Val ven’shaadla gare at morut’yc taap. Ke_ nu’ _kyramu narudare. K’oyacyi._ ” Both teens nod, and then the girl embraces Ursa tightly. The Countess seems surprised at first, but returns the hug anyway.

Ursa’s husband approaches, and the girl hugs him, too. Caleb shifts his weight uneasily; he’s not entirely sure he’s supposed to be privy to this private moment of affection between the family. Regardless, Ursa says nothing as the boy approaches and hugs her, then her husband.

When they finally turn back to Caleb, Ursa nods stiffly. “Ready, Master Jedi?”

He nods. “We’ll keep ‘em safe.”

Her smile dances precariously on the edge between sincere and dangerous as she says, “For your sake, I hope so.”


End file.
